Only Time
by A.Boleyn
Summary: DannyLindsay. Time teaches us the lesson that every second counts. Frame by frame, will it bring them together, or push them apart? last chapter added.
1. 0:00

**A/N: **Simply my take on Lindsay's upcoming leave of absence - how it would play out if I were in control of things at CBS. ;) Will be seven chapters, presented in blocks of time, alternating POV. Thanks to Maijajo for her beta assistance  
**Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with CBS/CSI, and I don't lay claim to these characters. Just borrowing them in order to appease some plot bunnies. **  
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**Only Time**

0:00

"So that's why I'm doing this. That's why I'm saying goodbye… like _this_. I'm sorry, Danny, but I'll see you again soon."

Lindsay pushed the 'stop' button on the tiny tape recorder in her hand. She was seated at her desk, door closed, lights off. It was done: the hardest thing she would ever have to do. No, on second thought, the _hardest_ thing would be walking away without seeing his face one more time. Yet she knew that seeing his face – the eyes that mirrored his every emotion, the wrinkle of concern in his forehead when he looked at her lately – would surely make her crack. Her courage would slip away, like a handful of sand. She'd be tempted to stay here in New York, forget about Montana, and lose herself in him. That just could_ not_ happen – she needed to go. She needed to close a very dark chapter from her past, and other people were counting on her to close their own chapters. She reminded herself that going now meant returning to, hopefully, a future with Danny.

She had made the decision to create the audio tape just over twelve hours ago, when she found out she would be leaving today. She received the phone call from Bozeman, booked the plane ticket, and then cried for half an hour, wondering how to say goodbye to Danny. Face to face would be impossible, she knew that much. Confessing to a tiny silver machine would be less painful, more cathartic. And it was – voicing her fears and hopes and honesty was easier than she expected. The things she had told him on this tape were things that she would have struggled to get out in person. She opened her heart to him, and now he would see every inch of it – the pure, the ugly, the in between. It was up to him now, whether he wanted to wait for her return, or move on with his life… without her.

She stood up from her desk shakily, wondering for a moment if her knees might give way beneath her. The mental strength it had taken to record this message had also managed to zap her physical resources. Still, the work was not done quite yet. Now she had to plant the tape and make a hasty getaway before running into Danny, or anyone else. She had notified Mac the evening before; he wouldn't be expecting her in today, or for several weeks. It was still too early for many people to be in the lab, but before long they would begin arriving in droves. She had to move, if she wanted her plan to work.

After returning the tape recorder to the AV lab, Lindsay crept down the dark corridor that led to the locker rooms - men on the left, women on the right. She pressed lightly on the men's door, opening it a crack, listening to any sounds that might signal occupants. Nothing – no water running, no voices, no clanging of metal doors. Even the lights were off. With a deep breath, she slipped silently inside, every step echoing in the clammy cavern. She carefully surveyed the rows of lockers: none had locks, so finding Danny's would involve peeking inside each one in a process of elimination. She figured she possessed the skills needed to deduce and assume correctly – she was a scientist, after all.

It took only five tries. When she opened locker number 384, she could smell him – that smell had been ingrained in her memory for nearly ten months, since he had carried her across the apartment roof. It was her experiment, a favor he granted, but being in his arms had been the ultimate reward. And then she found herself in his embrace once again, just a few months ago after her near-tragic undercover job. She had never been able to pinpoint that smell; but it was salty and sharp like the ocean, warm and spicy like apple pie. Yes, this was Danny's locker. The strip of masking tape that read "Messer" on the inside mirror wasn't necessary for her to make that deduction.

Taking the case that contained the miniature tape, she set it on the front center of the shelf. Conveniently, it was located right at eye level, meaning Danny would likely see it as soon as he opened the door. She wondered what his reaction would be – to this electronic method of goodbye, to her absence. Her intuition told her that she wouldn't have answers until she returned, and that the possibilities would plague her days and nights until then.

For a moment, Lindsay allowed her eyes to linger over the other locker contents: a comb, a pack of chewing gum, a spare t-shirt, a pair of strange, fingerless black gloves and a blue ball. His department-issued lab coat hung inside, and she fingered it gently. Soon, in less than an hour, this fabric would be meeting his skin, clinging to his body in a way she could only dream of.

She jumped suddenly, shaking herself out of her reverie. She needed to get out of here before anyone saw her, and before she missed her flight. Lightly pushing Danny's locker door shut behind her, she exited the room as quietly as she came in, then made a break for the elevator.

Outside, Lindsay blinked back tears as reality hit her. She was, in fact, leaving. The lab had become her home away from home; the team, her family. Her attempt to start a fresh new life had fallen somewhat short, but the people she had developed bonds with would be sorely missed. She knew that her friends supported her, and would be waiting anxiously for her return. But the thought that kept the lump in her throat was Danny, and the unanswered questions that would trail her to Montana. Could she count on him to be patient, after everything she had put him through? Would he understand why she couldn't do what she wanted to do until she became the person she wanted to be?

It was in his hands now. All she could do was hope.

And wait.

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Coming next: _30 Minutes _


	2. 30 Minutes Later

The usual disclosures apply. Thanks for all of the feedback thus far. Angst won't be sticking around for long, I promise. ;)

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**30 Minutes Later**

At only 8 am, it was looking to be another terribly dull day. Danny stepped off the elevator with an enormous yawn, stretching his arms high above his head. Things had been slow in the crime lab lately; apparently criminals didn't care for the cold. This left him bored and restless, and in this state of idle, he concocted a plan.

This plan involved the one person who could always, without fail, add a spark to his drab workday. He was going to ask Lindsay out to lunch: his treat, and this time he wasn't taking no for an answer. It might be the only opportunity for them to share some one-on-one time for awhile. Although he didn't know exactly when, or why, he knew she was going back to Montana for a brief time. All he wanted was to show her his support and friendship; nothing more, nothing less. Beyond the reassurances and casual façade she had put up lately, Danny knew Lindsay was troubled. She would need lots of strength in the coming weeks, and he happened to have a little gift that might help her achieve that. He was going to give her his dog tags – those medallions he wore day after day, providing him with a sense of security and fortitude. What could be more fitting than to give her those objects he carried so close to his heart, as a subtle reminder of her own similar place in his life?

And after all, what harm could a little lunch do? Maybe he could even get her to relax around him – friend to friend, they could chat over a nice meal together. Danny smiled to himself as he strode down the hall. Yes, he would manage to lasso her, like the cowboy she always said he was. The thought put a spring in his formerly sluggish step, and he began to whistle softly.

Unfortunately, though, lunchtime was still hours away. For now, Danny headed off to retrieve his lab coat and then get to work. He could hope for a noontime break with Lindsay, but this morning was going to be spent pouring over hair and soil samples, analyzing data and scouring print outs.

Upon arriving in the locker room, he noticed that his locker door was slightly ajar. The damn lock always caught, and if you didn't push up _just so_ while slamming it shut, it wouldn't close correctly. He knew that when he had left the evening before, the door was firmly closed So who had been in his locker? His mind reeled with possibilities, although he was hardly concerned about it. Maybe it was Adam playing a practical joke, or Hawkes leaving a note about their case. _Probably no big deal_, he thought, though he remained curious.

Peering in, he saw nothing out of place. Even his handball gloves were exactly as he had left them last Friday after the impromptu game in the alley with Flack. There was his lab coat, and every other mundane item he stored there. Nothing was new… except for a small cassette tape resting on the shelf. He picked it up for a closer look, and written on the label was his name.

In Lindsay's handwriting.

Danny bit his lip in confusion. They hadn't worked on the same case in weeks, so this most likely wasn't anything job related. She had obviously come into the men's locker room the night before or early that morning in order to plant it. His eyes widened as the revelation hit him: this tape was important. Ignoring the gnawing sense of anxiety that was growing in the pit of his stomach, he pocketed the tape and headed for the AV lab. She had likely used one of the small tape players to record her message, and he would need one to play it back.

Once there, he quickly scanned the names on the sign-out sheet to see who had borrowed the recorders. Sure enough, there she was: _Lindsay Monroe. Today's date. Out: 7:31am. Returned: 8:04am_. She had stood in this very spot just thirty minutes before. Considering the time involved, it occurred to him that whatever was on this tape had taken her quite awhile to record. The tapes themselves only held about ten minutes. So unless she had walked on her hands, backwards, to the AV lab, those twenty-three extra minutes must have been spent thinking or practicing. This was a significant matter.

Danny scrawled his own signature down on the clipboard and snapped up one of the devices, his anxiety growing. Now he just needed to find a quiet, private place to listen. The locker room was not a good choice; people were filing in for the day and would be going in and out continuously for another hour or so. His so-called office wouldn't allow him any solitude; Mac would be stopping in without fail. There was not a single place in the lab that would work – he needed to get out of there.

The very instant the idea popped into his head, his feet were moving, carrying him back to the elevator he had exited only minute ago. He pressed the button to take him to the basement; the building's garage where all the department vehicles were housed. Danny selected the usual black SUV with tinted windows and hopped in the drivers seat. Instead of putting the keys in the ignition, he extracted the tape recorder and mini cassette from his pocket. He wasn't going anywhere right now.

There was almost an eerie quiet down in the garage, with only occasional footsteps or the echo of a voice punctuating the silence. He popped the tape into the slot, but then his courage failed him. He rested his head against the steering wheel, wondering what this could possibly be about. Was she leaving? Had she already gone? What if she wasn't coming back? Was she in some kind of trouble? Or, dare he hope that she had confessed her feelings… the feelings he _knew_, without a doubt, that she had for him? The same ones he had for her, though he believed his were to the nth degree compared to hers. She possessed his mind completely, and he sure didn't mind, even if she just left him confused and befuddled. What the hell was this tape about?

There was only one way to find out.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered, and pressed 'play'. Sure enough, Lindsay's voice began to fill the small, dark space of the truck's cabin. Her voice always had a way of making his heart jump, and this morning was no exception.

"_By the time you hear this, I'll be on my way to Montana…"_

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Up next: 1 Hour Later. And yes, you'll hear more of the tape later. ) 


	3. 1 Hour Later

Your comments continue to humble and surprise me - thank you! I get terribly nervous as I post each chapter, so know that your kind reviews are so appreciated Same disclosures apply, and on to chapter 3. Caution: this chapter gets a little sapy, forgive me.

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**1 Hour Later**

_New York is even more beautiful from above_, Lindsay mused as she looked out the window of the quickly ascending plane. Something about being suspended so high above the earth made her feel peaceful, as if she were floating along lazily in slow motion. It always amazed her, the physics of it. They were moving at several-hundred miles per hour, yet it felt as if they were drifting like a kite. There is a sense of serenity when the realization comes that a situation is out of one's control, whether it be the physical limitations of an airplane, or something more internal, more profound. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on surrendering, letting go. Maybe that would help her get through the next few weeks.

"Have you been to Montana before?"

The voice of her seatmate jarred Lindsay back to earth. The fifty-something woman beside her had kind hazel eyes, a pleasant demeanor, and coral lipstick that was far too bright for her complexion.

"I grew up there," Lindsay replied, recovering smoothly. "In Logan, just outside of Bozeman. That's where I'm headed today. How about you?"

"I'm flying into Bozeman, then driving to Kalispell. It's where I was born, but I haven't been back in years." The woman accepted a cup of coffee from the steward, blowing lightly on the scalding liquid. She introduced herself as Susan, and Lindsay was growing curious about her new companion. In the few words they had exchanged, she felt a kind of connection between them.

"What brings you back, after all this time?" Lindsay inquired. After she spoke, she hoped fervently the same question would not be asked of her.

Susan sighed. "What brings me back? To open a door I thought had been locked a long time ago." She appeared anxious, suddenly, and cocked an eyebrow at Lindsay. "You up for a long story?"

Lindsay grinned, relieved to have the burden of conversation lifted from her shoulders for now. "I've got about five hours, actually. Let's hear it."

As they sailed over the Ohio valley, Susan talked for nearly an hour, only stopping on occasion to sip her beverage. Growing up in Montana, she lived next door to her best friend, a red-headed, freckled boy named Jeff. They spent weekends playing in the creek and catching caterpillars in glass jars. As they grew into teenagers, their friendship turned into feelings that ran much deeper. But after several awkward make-out sessions in her father's Thunderbird, and a homecoming dance disaster, they decided that friends should best remain friends, nothing more. Though Susan continued to harbor romantic feelings, they went their separate ways to college, not meeting again until a twenty-year high school reunion. At that time, both were already married with families. Susan, a high school English teacher, was in New Jersey; Jeff was in Whitefish.

"Then several months ago, I Googled him," Susan confessed. "He works as a conservationist in Glacier National Park. So I got his email address from the site, and contacted him. I'm now divorced, and it turns out he is a widower. We started exchanging messages, and the sparks just flew… again. It turns out he thought of me every day of his life, just as I had of him. So, today I'll be seeing him for the first time in fifteen years, since the reunion."

Lindsay couldn't help smiling as she watched the lively woman recount her tale of lost-and-found romance. She knew those emotions: the flutter in the pit of your stomach, the euphoria, the way your breath caught when that someone special entered a room. She had experienced all of those feelings with Danny, and then some.

A sad haze drifted over Susan's face. "We've wasted so many years, you know, because we just couldn't be open and honest with each other. We were so afraid of rejection, so worried about what the other person might think. All this time, we could have been together." She waved her hand. "Still, I suppose we can't sit around pondering what might have been."

Lindsay bit her lip as the words washed over her. Fear of rejection, lack of openness? Those phrases certainly hit home, and she felt as though she had just seen her own face on a "Wanted" poster. These people had spent thirty-five years apart, longing for each other in secret. There was awe in the fact that love could last so long, yet grief that so much time was spent apart, wasted.

"I know that feeling… a little bit," Lindsay admitted, then began to explain. "I'm crazy about this guy back in New York. And I mean _crazy_. But until I deal with some things at home, I won't be ready for a relationship. I don't know if I trust him to wait for me, though. Patience has its limits. It's such a mess… a situation that could follow the path you've been on."

Susan reached over and lightly touched Lindsay elbow, looking her straight in the eye. "Don't let it get that far. Take it from someone who would give anything to buy back that time. Take what's yours. Don't let it slip away."

Lindsay frowned and gazed out the tiny window at the spun-sugar clouds that surrounded the plane like wads of cotton batting. "Unfortunately, this plane is headed in the wrong direction," she murmured.

Her new friend laughed softly. "Well, we can't make them turn around. But how long are you staying in Montana?"

"I'm not quite sure. A few weeks, probably."

Susan nodded affirmatively. "Well, when you get back, you know what to do." She patted Lindsay's arm. "I hope I'm not being too forward, but not everyone is lucky enough to get a second chance like I'm getting. Get to him before that door locks."

Lindsay nodded, and the two women shared a smile before settling back into their seats in silence. After hearing Susan's story, Lindsay felt a new sense of resolve. Everything would be okay – she would get to Montana, do what she had to do, then get back to Danny. And finally move on with her life - a life she would share with him. She had to stay determined, and keep a positive mindset.

When another hour passed, she shifted to study her seatmate once again.

"Do you feel ready?" she asked. "After so many years, do you think it will be hard to pick up the pieces and love again?"

Susan shrugged. "We _were_ apart for a long time. But what's distance to two people in love? What's time? Nothing can stop two hearts meant to be together."

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**Up next: ** _1 Day Later _


	4. 1 Day Later

As you have bee asking for - here is Danny and the tape. :) You'll notice I'm skirting the issue of what exactly Lindsay's "dark past" is, but that's not the point of my story. My fic is about the two people involved, and their emotions.

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**1 Day Later**

Danny was lying in his bed, watching the shadows pass across the ceiling above. It was his day off, a rare midweek treat he intended to spend just like this - doing nothing. Though he knew it was an oxymoron, "feeling numb" was his favorite and most utilized coping mechanism. For coping with longing, coping with the decision-making that he now faced. He toyed with his dog tags; the ones he had prepared to give to Lindsay, but nearly two thousand miles stood in the way. He twisted them around his finger, over and over, cutting off circulation momentarily. Numb.

He had listened to the tape three times. First in the parking garage, once last night, and again this morning. He hadn't even gotten around to returning the tape player yesterday, the little machine was now sitting on his nightstand. No one would notice that it was missing, and if they did, he didn't care. Since his discovery of the tape, things had been a blur, forcing him to run on autopilot. He had clawed his way through the day until he could get home and just _think_. That was what he was attempting to do now, although he couldn't manage to streamline his thoughts.

Danny didn't know it was possible for arms to hurt so badly from the lack of something, for someone he had only held twice in his entire life. But in fact, they ached to hold her – a dull, chilly ache that penetrated to his bones, leaving him hollowed-out and vacant somewhere deep inside.

He had been intimate with women before. He'd allowed them into his bed, into his life somewhat, but never _really_ into his head, and never _ever_ into his heart. And yet, his relationship with Lindsay, though not 'official', had already crossed those boundaries. Their connection felt stronger than ones he had formed with others from his past. He knew he had fallen this time, and fallen hard. This realization hadn't come to him when he melted at the way she smiled, or grew tempted to sneak a peak down her shirt as she bent over evidence. No, it had occurred to him as he rocked back and forth in miserable worry, while she went undercover, head to head with a diamond smuggler. He had felt so helpless that he had resorted to prayer. It was the same silent, frantic, desperate requests he had prayed when Louie was hurt. The fear was raw, but it wasn't for himself. When he sailed out of the back of the van, ready to take on anything or anyone that might hurt Lindsay – that was when the realization hit home. _That_ was when he knew he had fallen.

It hadn't been a fairy tale thus far, that was for certain. For every bright moment shared between them, there had been equally powerful incidents of confusion and pain. It made no sense to him whatsoever: he had finally found this amazing woman, but nothing could seem to fall into place. When they got close, something pushed them apart… yet he refused to lay back and accept it. Now that the ball was in his court, and he had some serious thinking to do. What if he embraced this opportunity, only to have her back away? He needed to hear her again.

He reached over and snatched up the tape recorder, pressing play for the fourth time. Lindsay's soft voice began to fill his dim room:

"_By the time you hear this, I'll be on my way to Montana. I didn't know until the last minute that I was going, so I didn't have the chance to tell you in person. Well, no, actually… I was afraid that if I saw you, I wouldn't have the courage to go."_

Her voice cracked, and Danny was forced to pause the tape in order to compose himself before continuing.

"_But I need to go. Something happened, years ago, that I have to go deal with. As much as I hate the word 'victim', I was one. The only one left. I thought I was over it, but I guess I'm not. That's why I've been so messed up lately. Plus, now I've got other people depending on me to make things right._

"_Danny, you have to know how much I care for you. Not only am I attracted to you… seriously, but I feel so connected to you, even when you aren't around. I question what you could possibly see in me. I mean, you're so… you're just… _amazing_. And I'm, well, I'm just me. I couldn't see how you would want to be with me… how that would be possible."_

It was this point in the tape that made Danny grin, ear to ear, every time. Couldn't she see it, what made him so absolutely smitten? The toothy smile, the enormous brown eyes, the silky curls. Those were just the first few things that sprang to his mind, he could have listed thousands. For someone so tiny, she had a raging fire within her, and that truly heated him up.

"_I'm so sorry for the hurt I've caused you, because I know I have. I can't undo it, and apologies only go so far to repair that kind of damage._ _Overall, just know that I wasn't rejecting you. In a twisted way, I was trying to protect you. You've had your own share of problems, you didn't need mine. I felt like if I pushed you away, made you mad, I could keep you safe. Because apparently, people who get close to me just get hurt. I couldn't live with myself if that happened to you, too."_

Danny frowned and rubbed his forehead. Didn't she see that he wanted to take on her problems? To carry them for her? He didn't know what else he could do to make that crystal clear.

"_What I'm asking now is for you to wait. I feel ashamed asking, I know I don't have any right. But I know that I'll come back a stronger person, and I want to be with you. I want another chance, and I'll make this all up to you if you'd just let me. You don't know how bad I want this."_

But oh, how he knew.

"_I can't move forward in my life, or with you, until I get something resolved. So that's why I'm doing this. That's why I'm saying goodbye… like this. I'm sorry, Danny, but I'll see you again soon."_

He was unsure how to deal with the waves of emotion than engulfed him. He should have been elated, but it was far more complicated than that. He had reservations, and doubts plagued him. He didn't expect things to be much easier when Lindsay returned; she would still have some issues to work through. She was highly emotional and fragile right now, maybe that was why she had reached out to him in this manner. It was what he wanted, but now suddenly he felt afraid, untrusting of this gift that had been presented to him. The knowledge that he needed her in his life wasn't enough to counteract the fear that she might get close, then run away. Maybe, in the end, his own fears weren't that different from hers. Still, that wasn't an obstacle they couldn't overcome. Once again fingering his dog tags, Danny brought them to his lips and kissed them gently.

Pulling the covers high over his head, he rewound the tape and started to play it yet again. He soon began to drift off, the midday sun spilling through the curtains, Lindsay's voice lulling him into a deep sleep.

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_Up next: One Week Later _


	5. 1 Week Later

Sorry for the delay in updating! I was SO ecstatic over the most recent episode, I could hardly concentrate on writing! This is a filler/transitional chapter - nothing exciting, but bear with me. The reunion of our favorite couple is in the next chapter. By the way - CANON BABY!

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**1 Week Later**

It was hard to believe only a week had gone by. Looking back, it seemed more like months, even _years_, to Lindsay. As difficult as the past seven days had been, they had also brought a new sense of clarity. Something she couldn't pinpoint – perhaps her conversation on the plane with Susan, perhaps seeing the haunted eyes of the families of her lost friends – was propelling her forward, out of the emotional wreckage she had been too afraid to leave. Her stay was likely to continue for several more weeks, but she tried not to focus on that. It was only time, after all. She had the distinct feeling that when she returned to New York, it would be as someone wiser, someone older. Open to a new start – at last.

Lindsay had quickly settled back into life in the small, slow town – small and slow compared to Manhattan, at least. She was surprised to find that, lying awake at night in the still and silence, she actually missed the car horns and rumbling motors. Of course, Danny was never far from her thoughts, either. Remembering him brought her courage, giving her a reason to keep moving and stay strong. Three times she had picked up the phone, and stood with her finger poised over the first number. But ultimately, her fears took over, and she resisted the urge. What if he was cold to her, or even lashed out angrily? That would simply be too much to bear. She decided her best bet was to wait until she could see him in person.

For the first time since returning to Montana, Lindsay had a free day all to herself. She opted to go hiking, taking the same trail she often used as an adolescent to ease her frustrations and loneliness. Perhaps because she had grown up around nature, it always had a way of placating her anxieties. Today was no exception: the mid-morning sun highlighted everything it touched with color more intense than usual. Montana was known as Big Sky Country, and today that sky was a cloudless blanket of azure. While the oaks and aspens and birches had long surrendered their leaves to the ground, the spruces and pines were still true to their name: evergreen. How could she not find joy, in the middle of a real-life impressionist masterpiece?

The trail was smooth and flat in the beginning, where it wound around the base of the mountain. There was no snow, thanks to an unusually warm winter, and the grizzly bears that usually lurked about were hibernating in their dens. Lindsay nodded politely, eyes averted, at the few fellow hikers she passed. She wasn't in the mood for conversation, or even giving out directions. It was nice to have a break from all the questions she had been hammered with upon her return: _how's the job going? How is city life? Have you met anyone special? _She wished she could have made a pamphlet to hand out to everyone who asked: _I love New York. The job is great. I'm still single… hopefully not for much longer_. Freedom from the inquiries was a blessed breath of fresh air, allowing her to indulge in a little self-reflection.

As the trail started to ascend the mountain, the terrain grew rocky and steep. The higher she got, the faster her breath became as the air grew thinner. Every exhale produced a cloudburst of fog. Rocks and roots were a constant hazard, and she had to watch her step cautiously. When she finally reached the top of the trailhead, she paused and leaned against a large boulder, looking down into the valley beneath her. Everything was so still, so peaceful. She could just _breathe_.

"Lindsay? Little Lindsay Monroe?"

She swung quickly when she heard the voice. Standing several feet behind her on the trail was her eleventh grade science teacher, Mr. Bailey. Despite the fact that he retired a few years after she graduated, Lindsay could see that he was still quite active.

"Hi, Mr. B," she said, walking over to shake hands with him. It was no wonder he still considered her little, even after all these years: he stood well over six feet, plus thick hiking boots and a derby cap.

"I've heard you're a real crime stopper nowadays," he said proudly, as they sat down on a nearby bench. "You always did love chemistry."

She smiled. "I had a good mentor, what can I say? Every time I put on my safety goggles, I think of you." They both laughed, remembering the mandatory poem about eye protection that was recited before each lab period.

Mr. Bailey studied her with the knowing eyes of a man who had made a life's work of reading young people. "You look well. Especially… you know. _Considering_. You look… happy."

Lindsay smiled broadly, in a way she hadn't in ages, to the point where it almost hurt. "I am happy," she mused. "Very happy."

They chatted companionably for a few more moments, enjoying the crisp mountain air and the sound of a light, rustling breeze through the alders.

"Well, it's good to see after all this time," he said fondly, patting her shoulder. "I'm headed back down, care to join me?"

Lindsay shook her head, smiling. "I think I'm going to just sit here a little while longer."

The elderly man waved as he marched off the way he came. Lindsay watched him go, his red backpack bobbing through the trees, as he descended the same trail she had followed. Though it had been easy to navigate at first, it ascended quickly and sharply. Throughout, the hardest steps were eased by the sight of the lookout point just ahead. For Lindsay, that had been the key – keeping her eyes on the top. Now here she stood, reveling in the glory that surrounded her.

_It's like the path of my life_, Lindsay realized with a wry grin, uncapping a bottle of water. She had achieved her dream – she had always wanted to solve crimes, down at the molecular level where excuses didn't hold water, where no one could escape justice. Finding that tangible evidence helped _her_ find a purpose in life. This experience served as a reminder that finding her dreams didn't necessarily mean a one-way street to happily ever after. She had taken some spills, stumbled along the way, and now had to summon more courage than she ever thought possible in order to keep climbing. But the rewards of returning to New York - her career, and most of all, Danny – were visible just over this ridge. That kept her going, and it was almost within reach.

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_Up next: 1 Month Later _


	6. 1 Month Later

Here is the chapter everyone has been waiting for, I'm sure. The reuinion. I know one month seems like a long time for her to be gone, but I'm using it only because it fits into the pattern of my fic: minutes/hours/days/weeks. There is one more chapter after this, then it will be complete.

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**1 Month Later**

It was cold. Too damn cold, even for a winter morning in New York. Danny puffed breath into his hands and rubbed them together briskly for warmth. He silently hoped that, after being caught, this killer would receive an extra ten years in the slammer just for dumping the body _outside_.

"I'd say he's been here about four or five hours," Hawkes spoke up, kneeling over the body. The victim had been discovered in a Brooklyn junkyard, in the passenger seat of a rusty Ford F-150. This was where they now stood; surrounded by vehicles in varying stages of destruction, encased by a chain link fence. The police had already quartered off the pickup truck with yellow tape.

"Four or five hours? That's it? It feels like _we've_ been out here that long," Danny protested, taking a few pictures of the pickup's interior. While Hawkes had been on the scene for nearly an hour already, Danny had arrived just moments before. He had developed an unfortunate record of lateness lately; not having Lindsay there gave him less motivation.

Hawkes smiled, accustomed to Danny's penchant for voicing his complaints all too readily. "He bled out when his throat was slit. His jugular was cut, but the line is awfully jagged and rough for a knife. Too much even for a serrated blade," he said, prodding the wound gently.

Danny bent over to snap some close-up photos of the fatal injury. "Could our murder weapon be a key?" he suggested, wrinkling his nose. "I've heard of keying somebody's car when they piss you off, but their neck?" He shuddered. "I'll start checking the car for prints."

As he fumbled in his kit for fingerprint dust, his cell phone chirped, alerting him to a new text message. His heart lodged in his throat when he saw the sender: "Monroe".

_Today._

_JFK. American 14._

_Gate C-7._

_10:15am._

She was coming home. To him.

He instinctively checked his watch—it was already 9:30. _Oh shit, _he thought, dropping his kit on the ground.

"I gotta go," he told Hawkes breathlessly. "Can you get my stuff?" He took off towards the junkyard entrance without further explanation.

"An emergency?" Hawkes called to him.

"Hell yeah."

--

The next pulse-pounding thirty minutes were spent in traffic, thick and slow as molasses. Danny was tempted to steal the electric scooter from an elderly woman on the street corner. Even she was moving at a faster clip than he was. It had been a whole month since he had seen Lindsay, but now every gut-twisting, hand-trembling moment seemed like an eternity.

Finding JFK airport wasn't difficult, it was a major landmark and therefore hard to miss. However, finding his way around the inside of the airport was a different story. Danny hadn't been on a trip in years, in fact he rarely left the city. Navigating the various counters, security checkpoints, and gates was a mind-boggling experience. The fact that his brain was only focused on one thing—Lindsay--didn't help matters.

He wandered down the cavernous corridors aimlessly. Dozens of television screens displayed takeoff and arrival information, and he quickly scanned them for Lindsay's flight.

_American 14… Arrived._

"Damn," he hissed under his breath. He was late – Lindsay would already be there, looking for him, thinking he hadn't come. Following the endless arrows and signs was becoming a most desperate scavenger hunt. At last, in an accidental blessing, he stumbled upon the C wing.

Danny began to jog, counting under his breath with each gate he passed: C-2, C-3, and on. When he saw the sign for C-7, a mixture of fear and elation caused his breathing to become less reflexive, more of an effort. He stood frozen in place, studying the many faces that were mingling about. What if she had assumed he wasn't going to show up, and had just taken off, heartbroken? There were so many people: young and old, tall and short, dressed in every color. He frantically tried to remember the color of Lindsay's coat. Navy blue? No, black, definitely black.

Then he saw her.

A group of passengers had departed, leaving him with a clear view of the enormous windows. She was leaning against them, staring forlornly out onto the runway. Her shoulders were slumped, a sure sign she had given up.

Danny squeezed past the people who were hugging loved ones, arguing over destinations, booking hotel rooms on cell phones. He walked right up to her until he was inches away, yearning to make some sort of physical contact but not wanting to startle her.

"Sorry I'm late," he forced out, wincing.

Lindsay jumped, and when she saw him, her face broke into a smile of relief. For a mere fraction of a second, they looked at each other, time itself having paused. Then as if automatically programmed to do so, they embraced, clinging to each other for dear life.

"You came!" she whispered, her voice muffled from both emotion and being buried against his shoulder.

"Of course I came. There's no where else on earth I'd rather be." Danny was overwhelmed as he held her. Having her here within the span of his arms just felt so natural, so damn _good_. He knew that from now on, he would always protect her, never let her go.

Reluctantly, they pulled apart, staring at each other in shock. People buzzed around them, unaware of what had just happened. Unaware of what these two people had been through in the past month.

"What are you thinking?" Lindsay asked him worriedly, shouldering her carry-on bag.

Danny looked grim. "I'm thinking I should probably kiss you now."

Lindsay laughed, breathless with relief once again. "Yeah. I think you probably should."

There was no hesitation on Danny's part. He took his fingertips and lightly touched her chin, guiding her face up to his. Leaning in, he could taste her already, before they even made contact. And when he yielded to the softness of her lips, eager and open, he felt as if he were standing in a surrealist painting, the world all melting and slippery around them.

When they broke apart for air, Lindsay brought her hands up to cup his face.

"I don't know what to do, where to begin," she sighed, her thumbs caressing his jaw line. "I messed up bad and I—"

"Shh." Danny silenced her by placing a finger against her lips. "Let's move on, forget the past, make a clean start," he begged. "I know what I want, and that's to be with you. You want to be with me. You're ready, I'm ready. Okay?" He felt as if his life depended on her answer to this question.

Lindsay looked him straight in the eye, unflinching. "Okay. Better than okay."

"C'mon," he said, grabbing her carry-on bag from her. "I'll buy you some lunch."

She stopped him, her hand on his arm. "Danny, I think I owe you. My treat today."

He shook his head. "Uh-uh, Montana, it's on me. Enjoy the chivalry while it lasts."

She paused, biting her lip, but there was a twinkle in her eye. Danny chuckled and lazily slung his arm over her shoulder. _I got her_, he thought. He was the luckiest man alive, and he was impatient to begin this new journey.

"Let's go," he said, guiding her away. "We've wasted enough time."

* * *

_Up next, the conclusion: One Year Later_


	7. 1 Year Later

At long last, the conclusion. :) Thanks for much for your patience in reading, and your uplifting comments when I really needed them. My muse and I are going to attend couples counseling, but hopefully I'll be back with more DL fic someday soon.

* * *

**1 Year Later**

"We're disgusting, do you know that?"

Lindsay smiled at Danny over her mug of scalding-hot coffee, waiting for a response to the question she had just posed. They were the classic picture of blissful romance: seated at opposite sides of a tiny table in a café, each cradling a cup of java in one hand, other hands clasped as they gazed intently into each others' eyes. This little hideaway around the corner from the lab had become their morning ritual, as a way to start the day on a sweet note.

"What do you mean, disgusting?" Danny asked with a surprised laugh.

Lindsay shrugged, smiling. "Well, you know. We've become one of _those_ couples. The kind that everyone loves to hate because they get all mushy in public and stuff. The ones that make you want to lose your lunch because they can't keep their hands off each other."

Danny smirked, leaning over the table to plant a delicate, yet suggestive, kiss on her cheek. "Then I guess we are pretty gross, huh?"

As if on cue, an elderly woman nearby turned up her nose, studied her croissant with sudden distaste, and shifted to face the opposite direction. Lindsay ducked her head sheepishly, then took notice of the cover of the _New York Times_ that lay between herself and Danny. It wasn't the blaring headlines that caught her attention, but rather, the date stamped in the upper corner. It had been exactly one year since she left for Montana, and had left the tape in Danny's locker.

"I can't believe it's been a whole year," she mused, testing the temperature of her coffee with a tentative fingertip. "A whole year since everything between us changed."

"Everything did change… for the better," Danny pointed out, his grip on her hand suddenly tighter.

"For the _best_," she corrected softly.

It was ironic how spending an entire month apart had only managed to bring them closer. She would forever remember the past eleven months with fondness. Since their relationship had already seen enough angst to last a lifetime, their dates were kept unusual and fun - everything from fishing to a petting zoo. Pottery class, though, hadn't gone so well. As Lindsay watched Danny's strong hands kneading, shaping and molding the wet clay, the muscles in his arms flexing, she lost her composure, disfiguring her own creation. Then there was the dinner she cooked for him, the main dish being moose burgers. She did not confess this ingredient until after he had taken a bite. As Danny ran to the sink, spewing and cursing, Lindsay struggled to halt the helpless laughter that shook her. She related many of these stories via email to Susan, who had come to be a true friend since their timely meeting on the plane.

Now here they were, with nearly a year of such memories behind them already. They had fallen into the comfortable, steady pace of a romance that is not quite new, but still fresh with excitement. Their future looked bright—including a spring trip to Montana for some hiking and sightseeing. Lindsay felt that it was the least she could do, to show Danny the country. After all, he had shown her the world.

"I have something for you," he announced suddenly, bringing her out of her fantasy and back to the buzzing coffee shop.

As Danny dug in his coat pocket, she raised an eyebrow curiously, the corners up her mouth twitching upwards in an amused grin. _What does he have up his sleeve now? _She wondered.

"Close your eyes," he commanded, and she instantly obeyed, not daring to peek. "Now, hold out your hand."

Lindsay grimaced, hesitating this time. "This had better not be a prank, Messer," she warned.

"Come on, come on, just trust me," he prodded, chuckling. Reluctantly, Lindsay put forth her outstretched hand and waited.

"Here it is," he announced, and she heard a jingling sound. Her palm was filled with the sensation of cold metal beads, like a handful of dirt that threatened to spill if she separated her fingers.

"What the?..." she marveled.

"Okay, open your eyes."

Lindsay looked down to see a familiar chain her grasp. "Dog tags," she said, smiling. "Just like yours."

"Not quite," Danny said. "Read it."

Lindsay held up the flat, oblong tag, and noticed that the bumpy imprinted text was not a name or a date, but actually a quote:

"_Time is too slow for those who wait… but for those who love, time is eternity."_

After reading and re-reading the quote, she felt her cheeks flush with sentiment. "Danny," she breathed, "this is so sweet. It's beautiful."

He took the opportunity to launch into an explanation of his plan to give her his own dog tags when she left for Montana the year before. "But I didn't get to you in time," he added sadly. "I really wanted to give you something to help you stay strong."

"But you did," she assured him, slipping the chain over her neck and tucking it safely beneath her blouse. "I felt you there with me the _whole_ time. You were my rock."

Danny shook his head, toying with an empty sugar packet as he spoke. "You did it all by yourself. You're a hero to those families. Hell, you're a hero to _me_." They grew silent, the bustling of people around them filling the gap in the conversation.

"Thank you… for that. And for this," Lindsay nodded toward the necklace, then scooted her chair around the table so that she was next to him. "I hope you don't find my way of saying 'thank you' too disgusting."

Danny winked, knowing what was coming. "Disgust me, baby," he murmured, just before their lips met. As was usual when Lindsay kissed Danny, she became lost to reality, seconds slipping dangerously away to minutes. When they at last parted, no doubt to the relief of other patrons, Danny glanced at his watch and sighed. "I guess we should be going," he grumbled. They stood, disposing of garbage and shrugging on coats, then headed towards the exit where the blustery New York morning that was awaiting them.

"I could have just stayed here all morning," Lindsay noted wistfully. "Time just gets in the way."

"Hey, it was never an obstacle for us," Danny pointed out, holding open the door for her.

Arm in arm, they stepped out onto the sidewalk, the morning sun shining brightly against their backs.


End file.
